


Pursuit of Hoppiness

by zaffre286



Category: Little Witch Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bartender AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11635773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaffre286/pseuds/zaffre286
Summary: Two college students and their life (and stupidity). And a bit of booze. Now with a bird, too. May or may not have a plot. Mostly stupid things.Moving things from tumblr ask & submission about bartender au here.





	1. Beer Cures What Ales You

It was nearing the end of Chariot’s night shift when her frequent patron opened the door to the Luna Nova bar. She seemed dejected; Chariot noticed as she walked across to the barstool and hang her head.

“Hey,” Chariot approached, flashing her smile, “the usual?”

Her patron looked up at her, sad eyes gracing her feature, “mind making me something stronger than usual? Had a bad day and need to drown it down the drain.”

“Hmm… would you like some cocktail or just straight drink?”

“I don’t know, which one drowns sorrow faster?”

 _Okay, there’s no way I’m letting her drink something too strong._ “I’ll get you something. Please wait.”

_Will Gin Rickey do? Screwdriver? Moscow Mule? Sky-_

“Hey Chariot, it’s not crowded today, you okay closing up on your own?” Her manager Marjolaine asked, to which Chariot nodded. “I’m gonna leave then. Good work today.”

Chariot turned to her patron, “What about a Sky Ba-“

“Get me that one,” Croix pointed to a bottle with golden-brownish liquid behind her, “the Bacardi 151, on the rocks.”

“U-uh are you sure? It’s 151-proof!”

“Just make me one, won’t you? I’m an adult I can handle myself just fine.”

Chariot gave up and served Croix one Bacardi on the rocks. “It’s nearing closing time, I’m gonna clean up for a bit. Please let me know if you need me.” A nod was her answer.

* * *

 

“Okay, I got the drain and bottles cleaned up, now time for Croix’s payment and we can all go home!”

She went back to the bar counter and was met with emptiness. “She went back first?” _But why?_ “Guess I’ll just put this on her tab.”

Turning off the lamp, Chariot walked towards the door, only for her foot to trip on something. Thank God her years of athletics training saved her from crashing face-first to the floor.

“Ouch,” she rubbed her hand, “now what was that?”

Using the light from her phone, Chariot saw the thing that made her fall. _One Croix Meridies in all her passed out glory._

_Now what do I do about this? Call her friend? But she always comes here alone! EMS then? No, no, I don’t even know if she got insurance. Leave her here? And locking her in until 5 PM? What if she needs anything when she wakes up?_

The voices in her head kept supplying her with ‘what-I-should-do’ and one finally gave her the most logical answer.

“That’s it. Croix Meridies, looks like I gotta haul you to my place.”


	2. If a Redhead Homebrews, Does She Make Ginger Ale?

Croix groaned and slowly opened her eyes to meet sky-blue ceiling. _Damn that was my best sleep in a while! Can I just go back to sleep?_

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Uh-huh, morn-“ Her mental capacities finally back to her and ambushed  her with stream of thoughts. _Wait I live alone, my ceiling isn’t blue, the heck happened, is this an abduction –_ and all that can be summarized with one word, some profanities, and many questions,  “AARGGHH!! WHAT THE F*CK - WHO THE FREAKING HECK ARE YOU? WHERE AM I – WHAT DO YOU WAN-“

A giggle cut her train of words, “easy there, Croix. It’s me, Chariot!”

“Chari-ot who?” Croix turned her head to the stranger. _Who? Who is this pretty lady? A good Samaritan or satan incarnation?_

Noticing her confusion, Chariot spoke up, “I’m your bartender at Luna Nova bar, remember? You went there last night and passed out, I don’t know your address so I took you here.”

“Took me here ho- cough”

“Let’s get you some water first,” Chariot offered her a glass of water that Croix gulped gladly.

“Thanks there, Chariot,” Croix returned the glass, “so what time is it now?”

“It’s 11:25 AM.”

“11.25 AM?” Silence ensued. And then, “F*CK Finnelan’s class’s almost over!” Croix literally jumped from the sofa, startling Chariot. Then her stomach growled unceremoniously. “Aaargghh f*ck it all!”

Meanwhile, Chariot just stood dumbfounded. “Uh, err, Croix? Would you like to eat something before you head out?”

Noticing that she wasn’t alone, and in _someone else’s place_ no less, Croix lowered her head and spoke up, “S-sorry for the outburst! I was just so -uh- tired and can’t think straight. Sorry again for that. And -uh- thanks a bunch for not leaving me at the bar! And letting me sleep here! Best sleep ever, I swear!” Croix rambled, much to Chariot’s amusement.

“It’s fine, really,” Chariot replied, taking the sandwich from the coffee table, “will a simple sandwich do? It’s just chicken fillet, some greens, and a bit of mayonnaise though.”

“I don’t mind? I mean, most of the time I just whip up instant ramen.”

Taking a bite, Croix savored the taste of the real meat she’s eating for once. “Holy shit this is a damn good one! Wait- you’re not eating?”

“It was intended to be your breakfast, actually. I had mine this morning.”

“Ah – I see. Are you gonna eat lunch or what now?”

Croix’s stomach growled again. _Shut up, you insolent digestion system._

“I wanted to go grocery shopping first, but it seems that you’re that hungry! Want more of that sandwich? Pretty sure I have enough in the fridge to make some.”

“Yeah sure!” Croix beamed, “can I help you with that?” _No you idiot just sit tight and watch, you are a kitchen catastrophe! Remember the time you nearly burned down your apartment using your kettle?_


	3. Beauty is in the Eye of the Beerholder

“Croix no! That’s not how you cut the fillet!” Taking the knife from Croix’s hand, Chariot led her to the fridge. “Can you wash the lettuce? And just sit down after that, you probably need more rest after gulping down a Bacardi like that.”

“Okay,” taking out the lettuce, Croix walked to the sink. “Can I at least prepare the plates?”

“Oh, you’ll have to wash the one on the coffee table too, I only have two plates.”

“Only two plates?”

“Well, living alone, I don’t need many, right?”

“Yeah. I myself only have paper plates. No need to wash anything but my bowl and two tumblers.”

“You’re just too lazy, huh, Croix?”

“My time can be used better to study than washing dishes!”

* * *

The sandwiches were finally done, fortunately without anything burning. They ate in silence, with eager munching noises from Croix.

“Is it really that good? You seem to enjoy it so much.”

“But it is – good? Like, actually _good_? Lotsa better than instant ramen!”

“I’m not sure if that’s a genuine compliment or a backhanded one.”

“Honest to God, that was a compliment.” Croix was going to take the last sandwich, “Why aren’t you eating more?”

“I’m already full. Unlike a certain someone, I did have my breakfast.”

“Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“As sure as I am about you coming exactly at 10 sharp every Sunday nights.”

“Ha ha,” Croix took the sandwich, “no regret then,” and chomped on it.

“Hey Croix, why do you always go to the bar on Sunday night and stay until closing hour if you have morning class the next day?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s only for today. The professor had to attend a seminar last week, so she switched the schedule for that one time. I mostly stay inside on Mondays.”

“Lazing around after being tipsy? Hangover much?”

“Nah, honor student here, I’m usually working on things. Speaking of school, what do you do when you are not at the bar?”

“Aside from classes and assignments? Mostly practice with track team, or going to the bar to practice bartending. Or watching sitcom. You?”

“Trying to sketch up product design, preparing teaching material, grading things? Yeah I have no life.”

“Uh kay, that’s… gloomy. What’s your major?”

“Product design engineering. 3rd year. The tension’s palpable when you’re on scholarship.”

“What a coincidence, I’m also here on scholarship! A sport one, though. What scholarship are you on? I’m on Jennifer Award.”

“Golden Ash.  Been stressing me out.”  Croix rubbed her head and sighed; Chariot read that as her cue to change the topic.

“Wanna go to the grocery story? I need to get some things. I believe you’re now sober enough to walk on your own?”

“Y-yeah. Much better thanks to you. I’ll wash the dishes while you… um, change clothes? Prepare grocery list?”

“That will do. Thanks, Croix,” Chariot replied with a smile, “but first, wash your face? That’ll freshen you up.”


	4. Because Wine Not?

The birds chirped in the middle of midday sun; fortunately there were clouds shielding them from said ungodly sunray.

“Chariot.”

“Yeah?”

“How did you carry me to your place?”

“Fireman’s carry.”

“A what?”

“Basically carrying you on my shoulder the way hunter does deer.”

“Why not a piggy back ride?”

“Croix, you were unconscious. Flat-face on the floor. Piggy back ride can be useful when the one being carried can actually hold onto the carrier.”

“So let me get this straight now. You, Chariot, who is shorter than me, carried me, a 54 kg unconscious person, on her shoulder, 4 blocks away?”

“Yeah, I did? It’s not that far.”

Croix stopped dead on her tracks. “Is it that weird?” No answer. “Croix? What’s the matter?”

“I’m trying to comprehend the fact that my bartender, who’s shorter than me, is as strong as a grown up man working as firefighter.”

“I-it’s not that weird! And we are only 2 cm apart!”

Croix’s stare was her answer.

“Now what?”

“Trying to figure out where you hide all those muscles.”

“You do realize that makes you sound like a creep?” Chariot deadpanned.

“It does?” Croix looked genuinely surprised, “I’m sorry then.”

“Let’s just get to the grocery store in one piece, shall we?” And both of them stepped into the store.

* * *

 

“Croix, seriously, that’s all you’re buying?” Chariot said, comparing Croix’s carton of jalapeno flavored cup noodle to her shopping cart filled with yoghurt, vegetables, ground beef, eggs, and apples.

“Yes? I still have half a carton in my room.” Now it was Chariot’s turn to stare at her.

“What?”

“Don’t tell me that’s all you ever eat!”

“No, I alternate between jalapeno flavor and onion flavor. The one at home is the onion one, so I get this one now.”

Chariot just stood there, flabbergasted.

“Uh, Chariot? I can carry this home myself, it’s not that heavy.”

“That’s not the problem here.”

“So?”

“Do you even eat anything other than those instant noodle?”

“I eat cereal in the morning.”

“No, no, I mean. Other than. Instant food.”

“You mean take-out? Usually Chinese food. Why do you ask?”

“How do you even stay alive until now?”

“Determination.”

“Excuse me ma’am, it’s all ₤ 12.” The cashier ruined their heated conversation.

“I’ll pay for it. And this carton of instant ramen.” Croix took out her card.

Chariot tried to take the card out of Croix’s hand, to no avail. The cashier was very efficient at swiping card out of people’s hand.  

“No no no, Croix, there’s no need to pay for mine.”

“But I insist. Just take it, please. As my thanks, for both letting me sleep at your place and – “

“Please enter your PIN, ma’am.” Again, the cashier ruined their conversation.

Grumpily tapping her PIN in, Croix continued, “- and for the sandwiches. Tasty ones, not gonna lie about that.”

“Thank you, Croix.”

“No, _I_ thank you, Chariot.”

They both stepped out of the grocery store.

“So, I guess this is where we part?”

“Yup. I’m just gonna prepare for track workout later. And you?”

“I’ll  take a bus. So, uh- bye, Chariot.” Croix waved and walked towards the bus stop.

“Bye, Croix! See you at the bar next week!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this will actually have a plot


	5. Just Renewed My Gin Membership

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everybody feels the urge to feed Croix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna end this at the last chapter but someone on tumblr drew fanart of this au and I just can't not try to continue this

Someday within the weeks that is not Friday or the weekend, the track team is practicing under the blazing sun. On the track field, one runner with fiery red hair stood out, dashing forward, leaving her other practice partners behind.

“Chariot!”

“Yes, Coach Nelson?”

“Yer last lap is 0.3 seconds faster than yer usual. Keep it up so ye can bring that trophy home!”

“Will do, ma’am!” Chariot saluted.

“Good,” Coach Nelson beamed, proud of her protégé. “Now go run 5 more laps on 100 meter! Then take a break and help the others fix their postures! Can’t have anyone get injured on my watch!”

“Yes ma’am!” With that, Chariot ran back to the start line, getting ready to dash towards the finish line five more times.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, in a laboratory class that felt chilly, not only because of the air conditioner, but also because of the silence of the students feeling the icy glare from the teaching assistant to a blissfully unaware blonde.

“Meryl Cavendish!”

“H-h y-yes?!” Meryl jolted awake.

“You do realize that sleeping in my lab means point deduction?”

“B-but I spent all night writing that lab report!”

Croix rubbed her forehead and sighed. “Minus 10 points for the quiz earlier. Tidy up the chair. Class dismissed.”

As the students made their way out of the lab, Croix tidied up the practicum tools and papers.  “Kids these days!”

“Kids these days, huh, Croix? You’re one of them too, you know.” A voice from the door startled her.

“And so are you, Salem.” Not making eye contact, Croix passed Salem towards the faculty room. “Don’t ignore me, Croix.” Salem laughed. “How’s your project proposal going?”

“Not good. Need to find a better idea to get Professor Woodward’s approval.” Croix massaged her head, feeling an impending migraine after hearing Woodward’s name. Even worse, she was the one saying it. _I must buy some paracetamol on the way home._

“Why did you even choose her as your advisor? We all know how difficult she can be.”

“I didn’t. The perks of getting a full-ride scholarship: you’re at the mercy of the faculties.”

“Well… Scholarship money aside, I totally don’t envy you.” Salem looked at the clock. “Now, now, look at the time! Wanna grab something to eat?”

“No. I have to input the grades first.”

“Fine, fine.” Salem waved her hands in defeat. “Will a cheeseburger do? My treat for your malnourished ass.”

When Croix didn’t respond, Salem decided that yes, a cheeseburger will do. _Let’s just hope Croix’s still there when I get back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Salem Saberhagen is Croix's classmate and fellow teaching assistant but for different class.


	6. I Make Pour Decision

The weekend came soon enough and Chariot was excited. First she broke her own record; second, Samhain Festival is next week; and third –

Entered Croix, at 10 PM sharp, dressed as sloppily as usual in her plaid shirt. _Oh, it’s blue today. Last week’s dark green was nice, though_ , Chariot thought.

“Welcome!” Chariot flashed a smile.

Croix took her usual seat at the bar counter, contemplating her order. She wasn’t going to order anything nearing 151-proof after what happened last week.

“Croix, rather than ordering your usual drink, will you trust me to pick one for you?”

“As long as it’s not last week’s Bacardi, or anything like that, why not?”

“Ahahah ,” Chariot laughed nervously. “No worries over there! Not like I’m gonna let you drink that again on my watch!”

Croix groaned and hung her head in shame. “Fine, fine! What you got there?”

“Something that burns.”

“Grea- wait what?!”

“Something a bit on the sweeter side to lighten up your night?”

“That depends on how sweet it is.”

“Not too sweet, I guess? Something like coffee creamer.”

“After those tasty sandwiches, I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this one.”

“A’ight Croix, prepare to be dazzled!”

Chariot prepared the ingredients on the counter:  Bailey’s Irish Cream, Butterscotch Schnapps, Goldschlager, some brown powder Croix couldn’t identify, and…  a 151-proof Rum.

“Wait, I thought you aren’t letting me drink anything 151-proof?”

“I only need a teaspoon of it, don’t worry about it.”

“Uh-kay then.” Croix seemed unconvinced, but said nothing against it.

Chariot put the liquors into the shaker with ice and started shaking it. She poured it into a cocktail glass and put a shallow layer of the rum.

“The show starts now!” Chariot took a lighter from the rack, prepared to light the fire, but stopped when she saw Croix’s pale face.

“You okay there, Croix?”

“Are you sure this is safe? The fire won’t trigger the sprinkle?”

“It is safe, I can assure you that. Now, if you’d please let me proceed?”

Taking the glass closer to her, Chariot light the rum on fire. Tongues of blue fire danced wildly, creating a sight to behold. “Prepare yourself, Croix.”

Chariot took a bit of the brown powder and sprinkled it atop the dancing flame. The fire caught the dust and created sparkling small balls of explosion here and there.

Croix sat there amazed, previous thoughts about fire hazard dissipating. “H-how? What was that brown powder?”

“No easy answer for you, Croix! Try smelling it!”

“Sniffing the fire? Heck no.”

“The brown powder, Croix.” Chariot gave her a teaspoon of the mysterious powder.

Sniffing the powder, Croix tried to identify it. _It has some sweet scent, so, some sort of sugar? Brown sugar? No, sugar doesn’t have this unusual scent._ Her train of thought was interrupted when her nose started to itch and she unceremoniously sneezed, spilling the powder.

“Ah, don’t worry about that, Croix!” Taking a cloth from the rack, Chariot wiped the spill.

Covering her nose and mouth to prevent another sneeze, Croix rushed to the bathroom.

 _I screwed up, huh?_ was all Chariot can think about as she awaited Croix’s return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a real cocktail recipe, seriously.  
> edit: changed Brightonbury Festival to Samhain Festival


	7. She's Craftbeer

Chariot stood at the bar counter, anxiously waiting for Croix to get out of the bathroom. Eyeing Croix from her peripheral view, she spoke up, “I’m sor– “

Only to be cut by Croix’s unusually excited voice, “It’s cinnamon powder, right?”

“H-huh? Y-yes, it is.”

Croix sat down at the stool and stared at her drinks. “Bailey’s Comet, huh? Nice pun you got there.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Whatever for?” Croix laughed. “Even I need a laugh every now and then. Now I also know that cinnamon powder burns.” Croix smiled. “Can I get some water? I think I inhaled a bit too much of those powder.”

After drinking the water, Croix took a sip. “It doesn’t taste as bad as I thought it will be. A bit too sweet for my taste, though.”

“I’m sorry.” Chariot hanged her head.

Croix looked at her, wracking her brain to find a topic to lighten up the mood. Good thing that despite her uselessness at being an adult, she had way too much trivial information on her memory. Such as knowing about the Halley’s Comet. Lifting the highball glass, she spoke up, “Chariot, this drink lives up to its name.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ever heard of Halley's Comet? The one that comes around every 76 years?”

“Not really. Other than, yes, Halley and Bailey do sound similar. So it’s a pun?”

“I suppose. A comet’s tail sparkles like the moment you sprinkled that powder to the fire.” Croix took another sip. “Not that they have cinnamon powder out there, though.”

“Is that supposed to make me laugh or you’re just being informative tonight, Croix?” Chariot’s eyes lightened up.

“Well, that depends on the audience. Did I manage to make her laugh?”

“You almost did. Almost.” Chariot smiled.

Croix shrugged. “So says the lady. I guess I’m just gonna spit more information on Halley’s Comet, then.”

“Go ahead.”

“The last time it was seen is in February 1986 and is predicted to appear again in July 2061. It’s orbital period is 76 years, however, the calculation may be off the mark by one or two years due to gravitational pull of the planets that it passes.” Chariot took out her phone. “Have I bored you?”

“Nope. Go on, Croix.”

“Hmm… what now?” Croix looked at the ceiling, hoping to find any trace of information on Halley Comet. “Halley’s Comet is believed  to be composed of water, carbon dioxide, ammonia, and dust. And that’s all I can remember from my brain alone.” Croix leaned forward. “What are you looking at?”

“They said Mark Twain was born and died with the comet.”

“How so?”

“Here, I quote: ’I came in with Halley’s Comet in 1835. It is coming again next year, and I expect to go out with it. It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I don’t go out with Halley’s Comet.’ He really died exactly one day after the comet appeared.”

“That’s just a happy coincidence.”

“Well, maybe. But it still makes for an interesting story!”

“Indeed.” Croix drank the last drop of her drink. “I think I’m gonna take my leave now. My bill, please. And add the Bacardi from last week.” Croix put her card on the counter.

After receiving the receipt, Croix walked to the door, only to turn around when Chariot tapped her shoulder, shoved a box to her hand, and said, “please eat healthier food, Croix,” then returned to her station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today we learned about Halley's Comet, huh?


	8. You're Unbeerlievable

 

Croix woke up precisely at 7, as per usual. Walking to get a glass of water, she pondered about her breakfast. _Which cereal goes well with strawberry milk? Corn flakes? Rice krispies?_ However, when she opened her fridge, she saw an unusual item in it. A pink container box that obviously didn’t belong to her. She eyed it with confusion before remembering that Chariot shoved it to her last night, telling her to eat healthier food. _This is food, then. Better be those tasty sandwiches._

She opened the lid and found a note inside. _Oh?_ The note read: _Thanks for paying for my groceries! You didn’t have to! Here, have some homemade beef sandwiches as my thanks! Chariot._

Looking at the note, Croix chuckled. _What are you, Chariot? A Canadian?_ Then she looked at her sandwiches. _Woah, the filling looks thick. Maybe I’ll take one and leave the rest for lunch. A good plan, actually. I can have more time to work on my presentation. And the many other things I should grade._ Croix sighed, poured herself a glass of strawberry milk, and for once had a healthy breakfast.

* * *

 

Minutes turned into hours and Croix felt that it was time for a short break. And a shower, since her eyes could no longer bear staring at her laptop. _At least I finished grading their reports and quizzes._ Looking at the time on her laptop, she groaned. _11 AM and I haven’t started on making that chapter’s presentation._ Walking to the bathroom, she groaned again. _This is gonna be a long, long day._

* * *

 

After a refreshing shower and an unusually healthy lunch on her day off, Croix continued her work. The chapter was pretty thick, but her skim reading skill saved her some time. Halfway through making her presentation, her phone rang.

 _Unknown number?_ Croix decided to answer the call. “Hello? Who is this? If you’re offering me things I’m not – ”

“Croix!” A familiar voice replied. “It’s Chariot!”

“Ah, yes, what is it?”

“Do you have any unused shoebox? Or medium sized cardboard box?”

“Hold on, I’m gonna look around.” _I think I almost run out of jalapeno instant ramen. Now where’s the box?_ Prancing around her mostly unused stove, she found her cardboard box with 2 ramen cups inside.

“I found one cardboard box. What is this for, Chariot?”

“I found an injured raven earlier and now he needs a bed! Don’t worry, I already took him to the vet! He told me to get him some makeshift bed.”

“… I see. I take it you have all other materials you need?”

“Yup!”

“And how do I get this box delivered to you?”

“Are you busy right now?”

“I am.”

“How about around dinner time? When do you usually eat dinner?”

“Somewhere around 7. What? You gonna make me eat more sandwich?”

“You like my sandwich that much? Wow. I was thinking about eating outside, but that works, too.”

“Really? I was half-joking, though.”

“So, only half of you like it?”

“Well, all of me like all your sandwiches. I take it dinner will be served at your place at 7?”

“Only if you help me making the bird’s bed, Croix!”

Croix smiled, finding more motivation to finish all her work for the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this too cheesy or it's just my head saying it? Anyway, stay tuned for more Chariot's sandwiches.


	9. Tequila Mockingbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bird is here, a raven is huge, Alcor's canon size is not a lie.

Knocking at the door with the cardboard box, Croix spoke, “so, do we eat first or do we make the bird’s bed first?”

“Are you that hungry?”

“Not really. But I prefer getting what needs to be done first. I looked it up and it doesn’t seem that difficult.”

Looking at the cardboard, Chariot shook her head.  “Cup noodle cardboard box. Why am I not surprised.”

“Hey, beggar cannot be chooser. Now, are we gonna keep talking in the doorway or are we gonna make the bird a bed?”

Chariot let Croix in, and in an instant, the smell of freshly cooked egg filled her nostril.

“I should’ve taken back my words. The sandwich smells delicious.”

“No take back, Croix!”

“Right, right. Now where’s the – ”

“CAW!”

“Oh, there he is. Hello, bird.” Croix waved her hand.

“CAW – CAW!”

“Doesn’t look like he likes me.”

“He just needs some time to get used to you, Croix.” Chariot took the bird with both her hands. The raven was pretty big, around the length of Chariot’s forearm.

“I thought raven was smaller? How old is he? Why is he so big?” Croix frowned.

“The vet said he’s a young adult for a raven’s age.”

“That’s so?” Croix stared at the bird but didn’t touch him. “You know what, I think I’m gonna be really hungry in 15 minutes, so can we get started now? You have packaging tape, right?”

* * *

 

After some taping, cutting, and positioning, the bird’s makeshift bed is ready. Chariot put the bird into the bed and caressed his head.

Getting out of the bathroom, Croix joined Chariot. “Now, where’s my payment for making the bird’s bed?”

“It’s near the stove, can you put it on the table? I’ll wash my hand first,” Chariot replied.

“Okay.” Croix walked to the stove and find two plates with two sandwiches… with sunny side up eggs on top of them. _Weird.Whatever. If it’s Chariot’s it’s gonna be good._

When she got to the table, Chariot was already sitting there. “I see you forget the fork and knife. And the drinks.”

“My bad.” Croix shrugged.

“I’ll take it, then. You take the orange juice in the fridge.”

* * *

 

“I’ve never seen an egg being placed on top of the sandwich instead of inside it.”

“Really? I thought you’re familiar with Croque Madame, since you’re French.”

“Nah, never heard of it. And when did I say I’m French, Signorina Chariot?”

“Eh? But your name means ‘cross’ in French!”

“And your name, Chariot, literally means ‘chariot’ in English, but I never thought you’re British!” Croix retorted.

“Point taken.” Chariot cut a chunk. “So, where are you from?”

“Italy. You?”

“The source of Croque Madame, French!” Chariot beamed and was met with an indifferent look.

“You never heard of Croque Madame?”

“Nope. Anyway, you named the bird yet?” Croix pointed at the bird with her fork.

“I found one name that means white raven. Tried calling him that but he doesn’t like it.”

“Oh? I heard ravens are quite intelligent. What was the name?”

“Branwen.”

“CAW!” The bird squawked in protest, head looking up from his cardboard bed.

 “See?” Chariot huffed. “It’s just like he knows that it’s a girl’s name!”

“Huh? It sounds like a male name to me?”

“It’s not. Long story short, it’s the name of an Irish princess.”

“Hmm. Let’s try… Alcor?”

“Caw?” The bird cocked his head to his uninjured side.

“Alcor,” Croix repeated.

“CA~AW!” The bird cawed happily, waving its uninjured wing.

“It’s decided then.” Croix looked smug.

Chariot faced the bird. “Alcor, it wounded me that you prefer Croix’s name!”

“Caw caw!”  Alcor looked downcast.

“He almost looks like saying he’s sorry.”

“But still…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Haymaker: I never knew I need Croix to speak Italian colloquialism, thanks for adding the word "Signorina" on Mighty Wings


End file.
